Sonata
by 0Mt-nestor
Summary: They both felt the pull of a strong, instant attraction when they met up again after the war. Will the secrets in Severus Snape's life end up sending Hermione away?


The Snapes had always been a musical family. Though they were unsuited for one another in just about every other way, the love of music had brought Severus' parents together. His earliest memories had been accompanied by the sound of music - his mother practicing her viola, or the two of them attending the brass band concerts where his father had played the tenor horn. Those were some of the happy times, but being who they were, Severus' parents still could never quite get things right. At the age of five, his mother had given him a quarter-sized violin that had belonged to her as a child. His father had objected very loudly to his son playing a 'sissy girl instrument,' and tried to switch the boy over to a cornet. Severus had stayed with the violin.

Fearing the censure of his peers, Severus had hidden his musical abilities from everyone at Hogwarts. While out on her rounds late one night, Minerva McGonagall had found the boy in an empty classroom, doggedly practicing a piece of music far too difficult for him. Knowing the trying times he'd been having with some of his classmates from her own house, the Gryffindor Head had encouraged him to continue to pursue his musical talent. Minerva, who played violin as well as piano, had given Severus access to her own private music room. Minerva's mentorship turned out to be a gift indeed, for even in the dark years ahead Severus continued to find music a joy and solace.

 _Five years after the Second War_

Hermione Granger was unemployed and couldn't be happier.

For the first few years after the war, her life had been a series of jumps into anything that gave her the feeling that things were truly back to normal again. In hindsight, she knew that many of her choices had been mistakes, especially the ministry job (where she had learned very quickly that she would _not_ be able to make a difference), and the string of short term relationships she'd had once she and Ron had decided they were not suited to be together.

Now for the first time in several years, Hermione felt she was living her life on her terms. She had decided she would enjoy some time off, after which she could find a part-time job and look into taking some classes at university. Not having a high pressure Ministry job also meant more time to spend with her friends.

Tonight she and Luna had spent the evening at a Chinese restaurant in Muggle London, after which they had visited several pubs, ending the evening at the Leaky Cauldron. Relaxed after several glasses of wine, Hermione was content to follow Luna across the room to a back corner table. A table that, she soon noticed, was already occupied.

"Luna," Hermione hissed, prodding her friend in the back, but Luna was already pulling out a chair, leaving Hermione trapped in the gaze of her old Potions professor.

~sshg~

Severus Snape sat in his favorite corner of the Leaky Cauldron, enjoying a relaxing drink after work. Before this year, his drinking had been done almost as a ritual to counterbalance life's stresses, but things had been going so well lately that Snape wondered if his good fortune was an accidental fluke.

Snape's thoughts turned to what he might do with the time on his hands if he ever hired an assistant to help with his growing business. His secret dream, known only to himself and Minerva McGonagall, was to begin playing his violin again. The goal, of course, would be to get back to a level of ability that would enable him to audition for a semi-professional orchestra.

Severus felt himself pulled out of his enjoyable musings as he noticed Luna Lovegood approaching his table. Severus suppressed a groan, for the eccentric Miss Lovegood was apparently dressed for socializing in a clash of colors that assaulted his senses. If that weren't bad enough, following close behind was none other than Hermione Granger. _What would it take to convince Wizarding Britain that despite all efforts to cultivate his companionship he was simply not interested?_

"Mr. Snape! I was hoping I'd find you here!"

"Miss Lovegood. I was hoping to spend a bit of time after work unwinding on my own; surely you are not here to discuss business?" The Lovegood girl was semi-employed as a delivery person/sales rep for her paramour/fiancé Neville Longbottom. It amused the Potions Master to no end that in business matters, Longbottom used Luna Lovegood as his go-between; he often wondered if he was still the boy's Boggart. Even so, Severus had profited greatly using Longbottom's carefully cultivated rare potions ingredients, so he'd best be careful to keep a civil tongue in his head. He was just opening his mouth to invent an excuse for leaving when he caught a closer look at Luna's companion. Was this the same Hermione Granger, the bookworm and swot who had been the brainpower behind the Golden Trio? The girl had matured in many ways, and he found himself frankly perusing her body, liking what he saw. _Nimue's knickers_ , he thought, wondering what level of Hades he had suddenly been catapulted into; _I'm ogling a student! An ex-student! Oh bloody hell!_ The first and last time Severus had stared at a woman's body with that amount of obvious fascination had earned him a well-deserved slap. Severus guiltily dragged his eyes back to Granger's face, finding to his surprise that she looked flustered rather than angry. Her face was slightly pink, and weren't the points of her nipples beginning to appear through the soft fabric of her jumper? Could it be that his gaze actually turned her on?

"Have a seat, Miss Granger," Severus said, his voice low and inviting. She complied, her face growing even more flushed as her leg accidently brushed against his under the table.

Despite his attempts to distract her, Snape found the witch easily kept up with his and Lovegood's shop talk, and all thoughts of leaving were flying far, far away. Not only was he enjoying engaging Granger in the conversation, but he was also sporting an erection roughly the size of the astronomy tower. Lovegood was nattering on, earnestly trying to express how she knew his company would grow even more profitable if an assistant were hired, only to Severus it seemed that she was also partly attempting to convince him that he would personally benefit from it as well.

Luna stopped in mid sentence, glancing down at a colorful wristwatch. "I'd love to stay, but Neville and I have an appointment to meet up outside Greenhouse Six this evening." Gathering her belongings, she bent to kiss Hermione's cheek. "The moon cycle is at the perfect time to aid conception, and we need to join together at least three times tonight to avoid the influence of Moon Frogs."

Severus cringed at the young woman's words, trying to erase the mental picture of Longbottom and Lovegood cavorting naked underneath the night sky.

Hermione's face was pink with suppressed laughter. "Luna, your wedding isn't taking place for three months!"

"We've planned it that way. Don't you know that magical unions receive a special blessing if the bride is already pregnant?"

Luna practically skipped across the room to the massive fireplace, threw in some Floo powder and vanished, leaving her companions contemplating one another across the table.

~ss~

Severus passed through the complex set of wards and wearily entered his flat. He felt like a complete dunderhead.

"What's the matter, dear, your date didn't turn out the way you wanted?" the mirror in his entryway inquired. He had hexed it often enough that it no longer commented on his appearance, however the mirror seemed to have no such compulsion acting as his agony aunt.

"It was not a date," Severus snarled.

"You could have fooled me," the mirror replied in a know-it-all sounding voice.

Loosening his tie, Snape went to his sitting room and poured himself a generous glass of Firewhiskey. He'd certainly made a mess of things. If his senses had not deceived him, he'd found a witch who was interested in him. She definitely seemed flushed and, dare he say, aroused by his glances and conversation. So what had he done? Instead of proposing that she join him in a setting more intimate than the Leaky, he'd gone and offered her a job. A job!

Sitting in his favorite chair, Severus took several swallows of his drink. His balls throbbed, yet he was not going to indulge himself in the puerile behavior of a wank. He ground his teeth and forced himself to thrust away the image of licking Granger's nipples until she shrieked. It was going to be a long night.

By the next morning, good sense had caught up with him. It was remarkable how much clearer a situation became in the daylight hours. He had come so close to plunging – literally – into something that he was truly not prepared for. Of course he did not want to get involved in a relationship. Having a willing witch in his bed on a regular basis would be welcome after some lean times, but what of the aftermath, when a woman would begin to insinuate herself into every aspect of his life? Ever a private man, Severus had never been willing to share his personal space with another, and firmly wished it to remain that way.

Yes, he had found Hermione Granger very attractive. But he couldn't have her working for him.

~hg~

Rather than Floo home directly from the Leaky, Hermione chose to Apparate to a destination that afforded her a brief walk to her flat. The lateness of the hour did not bother her; the well-lit streets of Hermione's neighborhood were still filled with pedestrians who were eagerly out enjoying their Friday evening. Just about all the effects of the many glasses of wine she'd consumed had worn off, and Hermione slowly let her mind become ordered as she took in the crisp air of the clear, moonlit night. That had certainly been an odd encounter with her former professor. She had always kept a picture in her mind of Snape's eyes: cold, passionless, and finally, as he had seemingly bled out in front of her, dead. Tonight, though – Hermione felt her womb give an involuntary clench and she shuddered slightly as she recalled the hot, hungry look of his eyes as they had swept over her body. She knew that with any encouragement tonight she would have ended up in bed with Severus Snape.

By the next morning, good sense had caught up with her. Of course she didn't want to jump into a sexual relationship. She looked back on the time after the war as a brief aberration, perhaps a way of catching up with the adolescence she'd lost out on while helping Harry defeat Voldemort. For a while it was enjoyable to casually date or engage in brief affairs, but after a year or two, the friends with benefits kind of relationship had lost its allure. The sex had been lovely, of course, but Hermione had been unprepared for the emptiness she had felt as each liaison had played itself out. So, at the age of twenty-three, Hermione had been celibate for nearly two years and felt fully in control of her life.

Hermione wore her most severely tailored business robes for the meeting to discuss the terms of her employment. The first part of the interview did not go well. Hermione thought that Snape looked ill at ease, almost as if he was getting ready to rescind his impulsive offer. She did her best to assure him that her skill set was just what he needed, and finally got him to consent to hire her primarily as his office manager, with the understanding that there were times she would be available to help him brew. He had even agreed to accommodate her class schedule, and Hermione would begin working from nine a.m. until three p.m. on Mondays and Wednesdays with Thursday afternoons thrown in if needed. He'd been Professor Snape once again, minus the sneer, and with no suggestion at all of the man Hermione had encountered at the Leaky Cauldron. She left shaking her head, wondering if she'd imagined the entire thing.

~sshg~

A message delivered by Minerva McGonagall's owl MacGregor to Severus Snape:

 _I'm delighted to hear that you are beginning to play your violin once more. I believe that four or five months of a steady practice regimen should allow you to pursue your goal of joining a semi professional ensemble. I recommend you set your sights on the Bromley Symphony Orchestra, one of the better amateur groups. I am a season ticket holder, and know that you would enjoy your involvement with them. Let me know if you would like any help. I would love to be able to play together again._

 _All my best,_

 _Minerva_

 _P.S. I've been in contact with Miss Granger. I'm sure she will be an admirable assistant._

When it came to people, Severus Snape was a man who rarely changed his mind once he had formed an opinion. To the lucky few who passed muster, he was a loyal friend and, in some cases, willing to make the stretch of expressing his affections. As for his dealings with the rest – the dunderheads, sycophants, Gryffindors and various megalomaniacs he'd been forced to interact with over the years – Snape alternated between cool indifference and open distain.

After several months of working with Granger as his assistant, though, he was in a bit of a quandary to realize that his attitude towards her was beginning to change, most noticeably with his allowing her to use his given name. He'd been pleased with the work Hermione had done to untangle the mess of his accounts, allowing her the liberty to color code to her heart's content his ledgers and the lists of clients and suppliers. With the office running smoothly, Severus found he was often able to ask her to assist in the lab, giving him more freedom than he'd ever imagined when he had decided, against all good judgment, to hire her after all. He was determined, however, not to mistake gratitude for a job well done for the appreciation of Granger's personal attributes. That Merlin-be-damned memory of their initial meeting at the Leaky Cauldron could not easily be put to rest, setting him up to continue to view her as a desirable woman and not merely an employee.

Snape was desperate to try to find some kind of fault in the Granger girl, preferably one that would allow him to mock her. He thought of some scathing comments he could make about her crazy hair, but it was obvious she'd learned to tame the riotous curls somewhat. And to his discredit, calling attention to Granger's hair would just remind him how much he would like to touch it.

Hermione often became so engrossed in her work that she simply forgot to eat. Severus fully understood this habit, having been there himself on many occasions. Despite this, he managed to call the girl out.

"Hermione," he said disdainfully, " I don't really care if you refuse to take a lunch break, but I cannot have you fainting and ruining the base for the Tumor Growth Inhibiting Potion."

" _What_ is that you are eating?" This comment, accompanied by a look of disgust, was for the squashy pre-wrapped takeaway sandwiches or semi-wilted salads she was beginning to bring into work.

"Do not eat in the corner of the lab!" Fearing the ruination of his careful work, Severus felt he had no choice but to set aside room for her at his personal table for her lunch break.

Hermione was not certain, but she suspected that Severus' flat adjoined his lab. It was with great fascination that she entered the small kitchen for the first time, wondering if this view of his private quarters would tell her more about the enigmatic man who employed her. As time went on, Severus went as far as to offer to share his lunch with her now and then. She suspected that the invitation stemmed from his distaste for whatever takeaway meal she brought in rather than any altruistic feelings on his part, yet Hermione gladly accepted.

Hermione remembered that as a student she had admired her professor's hands as he had deftly chopped and mixed potions ingredients. Her attraction only grew as she observed the grace with which he moved around his kitchen, making tea and preparing ingredients for their meal.

The incentive of taking an actual lunch break also became clearer as she and Snape, both avid readers, began sharing with one another some of the interesting aspects of whatever book or periodical they were engrossed in. As time went on, Hermione began to feel a small level of trusting and, dare she say it, friendly feelings between the two of them.

It was this growing familiarity that eventually got Hermione in trouble.

One Thursday, Severus had spent the last hour giving Hermione detailed instructions how each potion they were brewing was to be completed that afternoon. So when he reentered the lab from his private quarters, it was only natural for her to ask where he was off to in such a hurry that evening.

Snape looked down his nose at his assistant. "I can't see how that information could be any of your business," he stated icily.

Hermione clapped her palms to her flaming cheeks. "I'm sorry," she gasped.

The following Monday, Snape was quiet and reserved and Hermione wondered if she had irreversibly damaged their fledgling rapport. It was only when he invited her to share lunch did she wonder if what had happened last week really mattered to him. He seemed to have forgotten the incident entirely.

~sshg~

Luna's waving hand caught Hermione's attention as she entered the crowded café. Winding her way through the maze of tables, she headed towards the back where her two friends sat. They'd already begun without her – Ginny sipped her wine and Luna, in deference to her pregnancy, was sticking to a glass of pumpkin juice.

"Hermione, you look – " began Ginny.

"Glowing," Luna finished.

"Wait a moment," Hermione told her friend. "Isn't that word supposed to apply to you right now?" Luna looked less ethereal and a bit more down to earth now that she was showing a visible baby bump, and her face shone with health and happiness.

Snagging a server, Hermione ordered a glass of Chardonnay, while Ginny finished hers and asked for a refill.

"You're certainly not wasting any time." Hermione teased.

"That's right," Ginny answered. "I won't be able to do this pretty soon if all goes as planned. Not that I'm worried, mind you."

Luna lifted her glass. "Here's to the second little Potter, whomever he or she may be!"

"Oh, I'm happy for you!" exclaimed Hermione. "What do you think you'll have this time?"

"Good question." Ginny nodded her thanks at the prompt arrival of the server and took a taste of her drink. "I think Harry would love to have a little girl to name after his mum, but the idea of another boy to keep James company is sounding pretty good right now. He never stops running, except to eat and sleep. Harry will be happy no matter what. Having a family of his own is so important, since he never had much of one to begin with. You're not going to believe what he suggested the other night for a boy's name – Albus Severus!"

Hermione felt herself blush. "That was a joke, wasn't it? I didn't know he and Severus were close."

Ginny laughed. "They're not. Harry worked hard to exonerate Snape after the war; he admires him for the sacrifices he made, but it's not like he wants to be best mates or anything."

"Which I'm sure relieves Severus to no end."

Ginny raised her red brows. "So it's 'Severus' now, is it? I know you've been working with him for a while, but since when are you on first names with the old bat?"

"I insisted that we call one another 'Miss Lovegood' and 'Mr. Snape,'" Luna added. "It sounds much more professional that way, you know."

"It was his idea," Hermione admitted. "It probably made more sense when we're juggling the ingredients of a complex brew."

"Hermione, you're blushing again. You fancy him, don't you!" Luna clapped her hands in delight. "I was hoping this would happen!"

"Luna!" Ginny scolded in a shocked sounding voice. "Tell me that you did not set them up!" The blonde-haired witch just smiled in the familiar way that was typical of her alone.

"Okay, I'll admit that he has been growing on me," Hermione confessed. "We've been eating lunch together, and that's been very nice, but how should I encourage things to move along to the next level?"

"Hermione, you'd think you'd never done this before," said Ginny. "Ask him out for a drink after work. Tomorrow. And don't forget to tell us what happens."

~sshg~

Severus put a stasis charm on the two cauldrons he'd been stirring and collapsed into a nearby chair, loosening his collar and cuffs. Everything seemed to be coming together at once – his large quarterly order from St. Mungo's was due, while the concert he'd be playing was in barely two weeks. Just tonight alone, he had played his violin for an hour before going to a two and a half hour rehearsal with the symphony.

He dimmed the lights in the lab, thinking he'd just relax for a moment before heading off to bed.

~sshg~

Hermione passed through the wards and entered the lab early on Wednesday morning, both excited and nervous about asking Severus out. The lights were still dim, and there was no sign of her employer. _That's odd_ , Hermione thought; no matter how hard she tried, she'd never managed to beat him to work.

"Severus?" she called, and was answered by a low groan from the corner of the room.

Severus looked as flustered as she'd ever seen him, practically jumping up from his chair, buttoning his shirt and pulling his hair back in a hasty queue. Hermione smirked. He'd fallen asleep in the lab. She was getting ready to comment when suddenly all thoughts of teasing fled from her. On the left side of Severus' neck, just under his jawline, was a large purple bruise.

It was only Hermione's strength of character that got her through the day. Fortunately, the work that Severus had set her to do was the kind that didn't require much thought. Setting her jaw and praying for three o'clock to arrive, she carried on mechanically, excusing herself only once to go into the bathroom, casting a silencing charm, and having a good cry.

The cool water she'd splashed on her face soothed Hermione's hot cheeks but did nothing to hide the fact that she'd been crying. _You stupid, stupid cow_ , she chastised herself, looking at the blotchy ruin of her face in the mirror. At once, everything seemed to make sense. Of course Severus was angry with her the time she asked, in all innocence, where he was going. He had obviously showered and changed before meeting someone that evening, and could the little shrunken case she'd seen him stuff into the pocket of his overcoat been an overnight bag? He was perfectly justified in thinking she was prying into his personal life.

One hour left. She could do this. But she couldn't keep working for him.

"Are you ill, Hermione?" Severus asked as she emerged from the loo.

"I've felt better," she answered, hating the way her voice trembled. "If you don't mind, I'd like to go home now." Drawing a deep, steadying breath, Hermione continued. "I've decided to attend university full time next term, so I'm not going to be able to continue working for you. I'm sorry."

Hermione was not quite ready to go home to an empty flat. She needed to talk to someone, but rather than contacting one of her friends, she went to the person who had been her source of guidance for many years, Minerva McGonagall.

~sshg~

Severus finished his work for the day. Entering his living quarters, he took a good look at himself in the mirror, finding his appearance as bad as could be expected: he was unwashed, unshaven, with a large purple mark on his neck that in his hurry he had neglected to apply the usual bruise healing paste to that morning. It was no wonder Hermione had fled from his presence. Snape scowled at his reflection. He could not let thoughts of Hermione Granger be an impediment, for he needed the next two days of uninterrupted work to have the St. Mungo's order ready for shipping.

Much to his annoyance, Severus received two owls from Minerva in the space of as many days, each with a message asking what was going on between Hermione and him. Not willing to own up to whatever role he had played in Granger's current problem, he had sent MacGregor packing, each time without a response.

So it was with resignation that he invited Minerva into his sitting room after finally encountering her angry face in the fire.

"Severus Snape, how dare you ignore me," Minerva said, quickly brushing the soot from her clothing. She had morphed from colleague and friend into the stern professor Snape remembered from his childhood. He shifted in his seat, almost expecting her to begin taking House points.

"Sit down and calm yourself, Minerva. There's no reason to fly off your broomstick after not hearing from me for only two days."

"Hmph." The elderly witch settled herself into an armchair. "Since it was obvious you weren't going to offer me the courtesy of a response, I felt I had to track you down. Now, I'm going to ask you once again. What is going on between you and Hermione? She was very distraught when she came to my office three days ago."

"And would you care to enlighten me as to why?"

"You know very well, or at least you should if you weren't so socially inept. The girl has feelings for you, and told me that you do not return them."

"Come now, there's no need to be harsh," Severus said, wincing at Minerva's sharp assessment.

"I want to know if there is any chance that you may return Hermione's feelings."

"I've grown to respect and appreciate Miss Granger as not just a colleague since she has been working as my assistant."

Minerva raised her eyebrows. "And?" she prodded.

Snape sighed. "Yes, I care for her." _I want her._

Minerva's face softened with compassion. "Oh, Severus, what did you do, lad? Did you drive her away?"

"Not entirely," he admitted, shamefaced. "But I certainly didn't let her in."

Minerva made a _tsk-ing_ sound with her tongue. "I have been hoping that some of your experiences during and after the war might have taught you something at least. Do you plan on spending the rest of your life alone?"

"Being alone suits me," Severus replied testily.

"I wish I could believe that. Don't you remember being twelve years old, and how you felt the first time I accompanied you playing a violin sonata? You told me you thought you'd never be able to play the piece alone ever again, for it would sound like just a bunch of notes after hearing it along with the piano. If you seriously want to make things right with Hermione, you must make an effort. Don't be adverse to change. Believe it or not," and here Minerva smiled, "you have changed quite a bit already."

Severus threw his hands up in a _mea culpa_ gesture. "Minerva, you know personal relationships are not my strong point. What do you propose I do?"

"Invite her to your concert," she suggested. "I happen to know that Hermione loves orchestral music."

Severus frowned. This was news to him. He'd always assumed that Hermione would have her head filled with pop music just like any other young woman her age.

"She's barely speaking to me, except to give me her notice."

"That shouldn't be a problem. Now, here's what we shall do."

~sshg~

Hermione looked up from the notes she was taking to see Minerva's personal owl tapping at the window. This was a good place to stop, and she took the small parcel off MacGregor's leg. This was the first correspondence from her old House Head she'd received since her near breakdown in Minerva's office the week before.

 _I've been thinking of you_ , the note read, _and would like to invite you for a night out with me._ Enclosed was a ticket to hear the Bromley Symphony Orchestra play an all Tchaikovsky program that Friday. Hermione flushed in pleasure. This was so kind of Minerva. A treat like this was just what she needed.

The class Hermione had on Friday afternoon ended late, giving her barely enough time to run home and change before meeting Minerva at the Centre for the Performing Arts. The Hogwarts Headmistress was standing in front as planned, chatting with a middle-aged couple and dressed in what looked like very suitable Muggle best. Hermione knew that Minerva's season tickets to the BSO had her travelling down to London monthly, yet she had never seen Minerva looking so comfortable and at home in a non-magical setting.

The older witch called her over, and Hermione was introduced to Dr. and Mrs. Walters, Minerva's 'dear friends and fellow music lovers.'

"Are you also here to see Minerva's protégé?" Mrs. Walters asked Hermione. Hermione gave her former teacher a puzzled look, but Minerva, with a glance at her watch and an admonition that it was time to find their seats, hurried them into the auditorium.

They had very good seats, towards the front and left side of the orchestra section. By the time they were settled in, most of the musicians were already seated and warming up, the sound of arpeggios and familiar musical excerpts filling the air. Hermione was just getting ready to ask Minerva about her mystery friend when she saw _him_ , sitting at the edge of the stage just behind the principal violins and looking too good for words in his black suit and tie. She turned and gave her friend a long look.

"Well of course Severus wouldn't be buried back in the second violin section," Minerva said proudly. "I've been listening to him play and accompanying him since he was a young boy at Hogwarts. This is for you," she continued, passing Hermione a folded piece of parchment. _Hermione_ was written on the front in Severus' familiar spiky script.

 _Minerva tried to convince me to invite you personally, but as you see I was too much of a coward. I was also informed of your affection for me, which you feel I don't reciprocate. This is entirely false. Please forgive me if my words and actions conveyed this. If you would like, I'd be honored if you would join me for a light supper afterwards._

 _-SS_

Hermione looked up at the stage, meeting Severus' gaze. She gave him a brief nod, and was rewarded with the smallest of smiles.

The concertmaster stepped onto the stage, and as the oboe played the tuning note, Severus placed his violin under the left side of his chin. But of course – the bruising Hermione had seen had been from the many hours of practice he must have logged to prepare for this event.

 _You silly, silly cow!_ Hermione berated herself, only this time with a wry smile. Relaxing into her seat, she sighed happily, prepared to enjoy a delightful concert and whatever else might come afterwards.

Author's notes:

A sonata is musical form comprised of a keyboard and one or more solo instruments.

The Bromley Symphony Orchestra is an actual semi-professional orchestra in London. And as a note to all you research geeks ( myself included), writer's liberty has been taken with the program, for as far as I know this orchestra has never performed an all Tchaikovsky concert.


End file.
